Under His Rule (His 1)

Sliding his hands up my dress with both hands until my panties are exposed, he then rips those off too. He spreads my legs and pushes the tip against my entrance just before pouncing down on top of me.

“Still afraid?” he murmurs into my ear, then looks at me.

I shake my head, but I don’t know if it’s true or if I’m trying to make him believe it is.

Another devious smile follows.

Suddenly, he grips my wrists and pins them down above my head. Right then, he plunges into me. I rip a howl, and he covers my mouth with his. The kiss is bittersweet as he fucks me hard and relentlessly as if to show me his merciless side.

He’s a greedy son of a bitch who’s fucking a girl in desperate need of salvation, and I let him. I let him because I’m just as needy for his love, for his devotion, for his domination over my body.

“I’m not the first to claim you, but I will be the last,” he growls. “I’ll replace the memories you have of him.”

For a second, I wonder how he knows, but then I remember he saw the scar on my belly.

I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to remember my past … or my present, or my future. These kisses are all I need to make it go away.

With his hands, Noah forces me to stay on the ground in the dirty soil while he pumps into me hard and unrelenting, his eyes never straying from mine. And with each kiss, I grow headier, filled with uncontrollable lust.

“Yes, let yourself go, Natalie. Let me fuck you into submission,” he growls, pounding harder and harder.

I struggle to breathe, struggle to hold onto anything in my reach. Plucks of grass tickle my thighs, my senses heightening as my muscles begin to tighten, and I grasp at them above my hands, trying so desperately to keep the orgasm at bay.

“Come for me, Natalie. Show me that face, that same face from the dining room. I need to see it. I need to know you want it,” he says, still looking at me as though he can see into my soul. “I demand it.”

I can’t stop staring into his eyes, those eyes that will haunt me forever as I’m about to reach my climax.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

His hand releases my wrist and reaches down for my pussy. When he starts rubbing my clit, I lose it, moaning out loud.

“Yes, come for me. Come for me like a good wife should.”

Right there, in the palm of his hand, filled by his big, hard cock, I explode.

And I hate it.

I fucking hate it …

Because I am not a good wife.

I don’t aspire to be a good wife because I don’t want to be anyone’s wife.

But the orgasmic waves distract me from what he said, and the grave, fiery look in his eyes right before he shoves into me forces me into the here and now. He lets out a loud groan before coming hard, a warm wave of seed filling me up to the brim. Three more thrusts and he’s panting while still clutching one of my wrists, maintaining control … as he always does.

The rain pats down on his hair, and I take a good look at my husband … my captor, the man who’s enchanted me and bereaved me of my freedom all at once. And for some reason, I feel compelled to bring my one free hand to his face. To touch him. To find him. To know him.

That boy. This man.

And the look on his face changes so softly that it undoes me … twists my heart into a shape I never thought it could.

Even though rain is pouring down on us, I don’t feel cold … but I should. I should feel nothing for this man, yet I do for some strange reason I can’t quite comprehend.

He rolls off me, and I close my eyes, and for a moment, we just lie there in the grass, getting soaking wet. Neither of us seems to care, and that’s fine with me. I never used to enjoy the rain, but now that I’m here, it signifies the outdoors … and the freedom that lies beyond those fences. That’s where the raindrops fall just as hard, where the soil feels the same underneath my sprawled toes.

It’s not all that different, this place and the world outside.

At least not when it comes to nature.

His fingers softly slide over mine in an attempt to hold my hand, but I immediately retract my arm and look at him. The genuine look of love on his face is infuriating even though seconds ago, I wanted nothing more. I guess that’s what love does to you. It fucks you up big time and messes with your head until you even don’t know what you really want anymore.